


Sob-Stories

by Lee_Mix



Series: Phantom Skin series [1]
Category: Avatar: Legend of Korra
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-31
Updated: 2015-01-31
Packaged: 2018-03-09 18:28:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,169
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3259889
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lee_Mix/pseuds/Lee_Mix
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“You can feed the world your sob-story about the young upstart whose intentions became clouded due to her troubled background, but know I won’t buy into it for a minute. I’ve lived through every damn tragic story your mind could only dream of, but it didn’t make me into a heartless dictator.”</p><p>(Or, when Asami Sato went to go see her father's murderer in the name of helping another, and ended up giving Kuvira more than a piece of her mind.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Sob-Stories

**Author's Note:**

> This is a side-story one shot for my main series Phantom Skin Feeling the Cold Air. I really did want to include this in a chapter at some point, however I can’t seem to place whereabouts it will fit in the narrative, hence the side-story. If you gloss over a few details relating to my story, I suppose this can stand as its own work. :) There is implied Korrasami (of course), so I hope you enjoy this!

_Deep breaths, Sato. Deep breaths._

Asami steeled her heart, pacing up and down the corridor, as Lin prepared whatever Police Chief’s did to ready a visit to a notorious war criminal. She heard the mumbled sentences of what she assumed to be related to her, though Lin’s voice seemed to bear little emotion other than the metal clad authoritative figure she had come to know and admire over the years.

Hard work in renovating the city to make it easier for officers to catch would-be criminals paved the way for many awkwardly-polite interactions to grow into admiration and respect for one another (at least, that was the case for her. Lin was about as readable as Tenzin: unreadable until the fuse blew and all their emotions were scattered pages of a torn book).

“Alright kid, you’re free to go in.” Asami’s pacing stopped as soon as she heard a clearer version of Lin’s voice, and she turned to look at the woman. Her face was mainly passive, though her brow was raised. “You sure you want to do this? It’s not too late to back out now.”

“It’s not _for_ me, Lin.” She whispered, looking at her straight in the eye.

Lin’s face, surprisingly, softened. “Ikki?”

“Ikki.”

Lin motioned for her to follow her on into the elevator, and folded her arms as she leant against the wall. “Can’t say I blame you for wanting answers. That damn nephew of mine isn’t speaking to anyone outside the family. Haven’t you tried to speak to Zhu Li, though? Even though she's loyal to that. . . well, whatever in Agni's name that man can be described as, she would be willing to help you, right?”

Asami sighed, running a hand through her hair. “Zhu Li is a strong woman, and a smart one, yes. But there are things I don’t want to force her to remember.”

“Right.” Lin agreed, not pressing for details.

_(Lin would later tell Asami that there were things she would never force her officers to remember and that she herself still sometimes shudders when she sees a picture of Amon on a stray leaflet.)_

The elevator then halted to a stop, and Lin again signalled for Asami to come. Following her in tandem, Asami took note of the wooden cells, thick blocks and barely any light shining through. If there were ever a place to cage up animals, Asami guessed even this place was an insult to their natural wonder.  

She may have spared some sympathy for her, in another life. But that sort of thought was a mere passing of miles of grudges and anger to crawl through, and the misery when thinking of the woman’s name had found a companion in her gut-wrenching misery. They danced in her mind, scratching at the back of her head, and sometimes the memories of that bittersweet victory plagued her for hours.

Her thoughts became second-nature to instinct when she heard one of Lin’s officers shout for the order to open the cell.

Lin showed her in, wordlessly, but did not repeat Asami’s footsteps into the cell.

That was okay, though. Asami could take care of herself.

 

* * *

 

Quietly, she walked into the cell, where the wood smelt wrong and the floors had none of the appeals of her office back at Future Industries.

 _Here,_ she thought, _the worst of humankind dance._

“A visitor for you, Kuvira. Don’t get any funny ideas.”

“Trust me, I won’t.”

Asami froze, before taking a breath. _Don’t let her get to you. You’re here for Ikki, that’s all. No personal matters now. Not now._

The door opened.

_Not now._

She entered the room with slower steps, and found it . . . smaller, than she had initially anticipated. Just a single table and chair, a bed and privy and sink. Grey, aside from the black and green of the woman who would have once ruled an entire nation with an ironclad fist.

Speaking of the figure in the room, Asami could have almost laughed. The woman looked as content with her life as ever. Sat down in the chair, both hands clasped tightly together and resting on the table, and her eyes were focused on one of the ten digits. It looked more like a business proposition than a war criminal being interviewed.

Asami pulled back the wooden chair and sat down with relative ease, looking at the woman in the eye.

“I assume you know why I’m here.” She said with little emotion.

Kuvira’s eyes opened to regard her “guest” and nodded. “Chief Bei Fong briefed me, Miss Sato.”

Asami’s frowned, folding her arms and crossing one leg over the other. “Enough with the formalities. That weapon you designed was an abomination, but it was a marvel of engineering. I need--”

“I didn’t design it, need you remember.” Kuvira cut her off. “Bataar was the engineer--head engineer, of the project. I hardly see why you would come to me for details when he's clearly the one that's more informed on the matter than I could have ever been.”

“I guess Lin didn’t tell you everything then.” Asami gifted Kuvira with a sardonic smirk, “Bataar Jr doesn’t speak to anyone outside of his family now since your “ _gambit_ ” tactic failed. With the exception of Korra, of course. Zhu Li has enough on her mind, and I won’t force her to remember your atrocities in the name of what you defined as ‘ _unity_ ’.”

Kuvira’s eyes widened, and she looked down, the content look wavering into an expression of . . . hurt?

_She did say she loved him. But if she did, she would have never fired at him, or any of us, in the first place._

“. . . What is it you wish to know, Miss Sato?” Kuvira spoke up, meekly, shrinking into her shoulders a little.

“That weapon. It was a monstrosity, but you were able to function the arms almost perfectly with your own movements. I want to know how you were able to do that.”

Kuvira pursed her lips together and tilted her head. “It was with metal bending.”

Asami rolled her eyes. “I gathered that. But bending something to that degree requires precision, over a wide-degree. How were you able to bend all parts of the machine?”

”Like I just explained. It was crafted in such a way so that I would be able to metal-bend the entirety of the machine from one area--”

“I _know_ that!” Asami slammed her hands on the desk, though Kuvira did not flinch. Countless visits from Suyin must have numbed her, Asami reasoned from within, though she didn’t care. Sighing heavily, she straightened up her collar, before continuing. “Let’s try a different approach. At one point, Korra said that you tore off the useless arm. How did you _know_ it was useless? How did you manage to feel it from that distance?”

Kuvira cupped her chin, leaning against the chair. “It wasn’t too hard to figure out. I could feel someone metal-bending the gears within the arm. I’ve always been sensitive to metal, even the refined type.”

Asami sighed in disappointment, rubbing her tired eyes. “I suppose it’s just a personal attribute it had, then. No way I could apply it. . .”

“You wish to make a weapon similar, I assume?” Kuvira assumed with a slight edge to her tone. Asami’s eyes snapped open at once. “What is Raiko doing now? Conscripting you into it so he may have a stronger defence?”

“Don’t be absurd. I don’t craft military weapons for senseless takeovers.” She spat, “I only supply mechanics for _good_ causes. Like I once did for you.”

The chains rattled from where Kuvira moved her legs, tucking them underneath the chair. “I was grateful for that.”

Then, she laughed. A bitter chuckle, making Kuvira shrink down even further. “Right. I suppose I should be grateful for the reception of that assistance? Melting the cars down that I provided for military craft? Using my railway system to silently _**purge**_ the empire of anyone not of that national heritage?”

“I never intended--”

“Or how about my personal favourite, Kuvira?” Kuvira winced. They both knew what would come next. “I suppose I should thank you for murdering my father in your frenzy of your good intentions. How utterly _patriotic_ of you.”

The charade ended for Asami, as she stood back up, rubbing her arm. _You’re here for Ikki. You let your emotions get in the way. Salvage what you can._

Glancing back at Kuvira, though . . . Asami felt pity for her. Not for the person, she had become, but for what she could have been. A young woman effectively trying to stabilize a place that her mentor refused to do. Stubborn to do things her own way, regardless of what her mentor thought, to bring order where there was too much chaos.

Asami could have chuckled. Maybe she was once like Korra. But her sympathies ended there, with those she had hurt, and the potential she had ruined.

“I came here because I needed information.” Asami’s voice was deep, as she placed her hand back on the table. Kuvira looked up at her with a placid expression. “No matter what emotions may be dug up, I will get it. So you will answer my questions, and I assure you, I’ll never visit here again.”

Kuvira nodded, silent.

Asami took this as permission to sit back down and handed Kuvira a wad of paper and a pen. “You can still write.”

It wasn’t a question. Kuvira nodded again.

“I can work on something with barely any information. I don’t need a replica, just a basic outline.” It may have been a boast, but she took pride in this. No emotional baggage would get in the way of that. “I want you to explain, and draw, what it felt like to move the arm. How it connected with your bending. How the infrastructure of the weapon was linked to you.”

Her fingers hesitated for a moment, before Kuvira picked up the pen, and began to sketch. Rough, jagged lines, though that could be attributed to the slight shakes of her fingers.

“Bataar knew this material more than I did.” She murmured, “so I don’t know every exact detail. However, he designed it so that I would have optimal control. The inside was lined with metal, the metal from Zao Fu. Something I knew I would be familiar with, and he knew it too. It . . . connected with my chi, or my natural link with metal.”

Her lines took her to the heart of the machine. “Bataar used to say things. If I had listened, I imagine I would have been of more help right now.”

“Don’t try to evoke sympathy from me.” Asami glared at her, “I’m here for information, not your tragic tales of lost love.”

“I know,” Kuvira said quickly, biting her lip. “Forgive me.”

“Never.”

“I expected as much.”

Kuvira then went on to draw more rugged black lines, explaining how the connected heart and brain of the machine worked, how she felt the natural connection. Asami’s brain absorbed the information instantly, though made little effort at small-talk. She wasn’t a bender, but the electric glove she often carried around had become an extension of her, utilizing it like an additional limb, or electronic skin.

Ideas were flowing into her mind as Kuvira explained the mechanics and know-how of the mechanism, though none of her thoughts were coming up with a coherent way of making sure Ikki would be able to move the prosthetic if she took something from this design. It would have been easier if she were a metal bender, true, but Asami knew that this wouldn’t just be a project for Ikki. It would be for more than just Ikki. Many victims of this war and others would be in need of prosthetics. And as long as she was CEO of Future Industries, she would do her damn best to provide.

“. . . Miss Sato?”

Asami blinked, shaking her head to rid herself of her fatigue. “Continue.”

“There’s little else I can tell you. That’s all I know.” Kuvira explained, setting the pen back down. “You’d have more luck speaking with Zhu Li, or Bataar, or one of the other engineers that were onboard.”

“I’ve already taken them into account,” Asami told her, raising a brow. “And none of your followers will talk to me. They’re still loyal to “The Great Uniter”.” Asami chuckled, “it was sort of funny. I walked past one of them, and they spat at me for betraying you.”

Kuvira’s eyes closed again. “I am aware of their behaviour. I do not condone their actions, though I doubt that is any small comfort to you.”

“No, it isn't. You may not approve what they do _now_ , but you sure didn't stop yourself endorsing in their behaviour whilst you held the power to have your way.” Asami took the drawing away from Kuvira and put it in her pack.  

“Do you truly think all of my intentions were based purely off of a simplistic greed for power? Some of my actions are unforgivable, I am aware of that. Do not tell me they were not just in bringing me down. But you cannot just sit there and say I’m a complete _monster,_ Asami Sato.” Kuvira defended herself, clasping her hands tighter together. “I tried to save my _nation_. Give me that due credit, at least.”

Asami dropped her bag on the ground, the words circulating in her head.

She stood up.

Kuvira glanced her way.

Asami slammed her hands down on the table, hard, causing Kuvira to flinch visibly.

“How _**dare**_ you.” Anger welled up in her eyes, and one drop of it fell from her eyes to the ground, shattering upon impact. “How dare you claim to good intentions when hundreds died for a pointless take-over. One you had the chance to end prematurely _and_ still have your empire, still have your fiancée, without the bloodshed.”

“I. . .” Kuvira was rendered speechless. _Good_.

“I could have forgiven you once if you had stopped yourself. You had every opportunity to end it all.” _Let her hurt as much as you do. Let these thoughts haunt her as much as they do you. What else have you got to lose? It’s just a bit more pain_. “But thanks to you, _thousands_ of families have to go without seeing their fathers, sons, daughter, and mothers. All because of you trying to reclaim some ‘land’ that had been agreed upon decades ago!”

She clawed her hand through her raven-coloured hair and wiped angrily at her eyes. She was adamant that woman would not be the one to see her cry. “You killed my father! You heartless, stone-cold _coward_. You crushed him without even giving him the decency of facing the one who had ended his life."

“I-If he hadn't--”

She was stopped when a picture was thrust into her face. Kuvira gulped audibly and turned her head away.

“This is what your regime did! To a _child_!”

Ikki. One arm intact. The other amputated to save her life.

“Look at her.”

Kuvira did not.

“I said, **_look at her!_** _”_

The shouts made Kuvira’s eyes flicker over to gaze at the image. Broken little girl, eyes downcast. The distant wondering of a better life in her eyes.

Her arm lost to the cruel dance of war.

“ _You_ did this to her.”

Kuvira began to shake.

“She’s now living with me because it was either her arm or her sister’s life that was lost. Her name is Ikki, and she chose to save her sister. And she wakes up every morning wondering if she’s still broken. If she’ll ever be good enough to face her family again. But she was _brave._ She did not give up other's lives to make it easier for herself.”

Kuvira’s eyes began to tear up as she shook. Good.

“So you know what, Kuvira? You can feed the world your sob-story about the young upstart whose intentions became clouded due to her troubled background, but you should know that I won’t buy into it for a minute. I’ve lived through every damn tragic story your mind could only dream of, but it didn’t make me into a heartless dictator.”

Asami put the photograph back into her breast pocket, watching as Kuvira’s eyes clamped shut and her tears fell.

Kuvira covered her face with her hands as she wept, and Asami nearly pitied the sight of a woman that had fallen so far from her good graces. The engineer approached the woman with slow steps and knelt down beside her.

“I know Korra visits you still.”

That earned a response. Kuvira’s head raised, confused and unguarded.

“I won’t stop it. I won’t demand that she ceases this visitation with you, despite how much I'm against it. I know Korra sympathises with you. I know she's compassionate to your motivations." Asami leaned in close, fixating her gaze on Kuvira. "But know if you _hurt_ her in any way, I will come after you. I won’t stop until I hunt you down and end you by my own hand. For that, you have my word.”

Kuvira wiped her eyes. “I expected as much.”

“The Avatar has given you sympathy, Kuvira. Don’t waste it. You can try and reason in your head, the justifications, but know you cost people a lot. Too much. You’d better spend the rest of your life trying to atone for that. You might not get that chance again, and if anyone can help you, it’s Korra.”

There was little else to be said. Asami stood back up, fixed her clothes, her hair, and readily marched toward the door, leaving Kuvira to her thoughts.

Before she left, however, she heard a small whisper.

_“She’s lucky to have you, Asami Sato.”_

Asami took her leave without another word.

 

* * *

 

After words of congratulations were delivered from Lin, Asami departed from the station with a head that weighed down on her. The Chief was kind in her own strange way (albeit it was somewhat forced a lot of the time), and Asami knew that, but she just wanted to get home to immerse herself in her work.

She went to grab her keys out of her pocket to start up the engine to her car when she stopped in her tracks.

“Hey.”

_Korra?_

The Avatar, with folded arms, leaned against the door of her arm. She grinned at Asami with that infamous spunk, and Asami could only remain frozen in her position. “I heard from Mako. You went to go see Kuvira for Ikki?” She asked, and it was only now Asami noticed how dark it had gotten. The only light was from the station and the streetlight, the latter of which illuminated Korra’s face.

“. . . Yeah.”

Korra smiled gently at her again, moving so that she could take Asami’s hand.

“Want me to drive? You did always say it was relaxing.”

Asami glanced down. Korra gripped her hand even tighter, stroking her knuckles.

“. . . I’d like that.”


End file.
